Stephen Hallett was in too much trouble to speak to me about the model
that evening. Mrs Hallett was in tears, and full of repinings, and
Linny was out, it seemed, when her brother had returned.
I soon found that he did not wish me to stay, and being tired out, I
made the best of my way back to Caroline Street, and went to bed to
sleep heavily, dreaming that Hallett and I were working away at the
model, but as fast as ever we got it nearly to perfection, Mr Blakeford
came and stood by to throw in the pieces of the stick with which he had
been beaten by Mr Wooster, and every time he did so the little model
was broken.
Then the whole scene of the flogging seemed to take the place of
Hallett's attic, and I saw Mr Blakeford sit down in a chair, panting,
bloody, and exhausted, and he kept on saying in a low hoarse voice,
"Antony, lad, water!"
It was very terrible to see him sitting there by the light of the office
gas, for though I wanted to help him, the power was not there, and,
strive how I would, I could not get to his side, or fetch what he asked
for.
"Antony, lad, water!"
His voice sounded like a groan, and I knew he must be very bad; but
still I could not help him, and the bitter moan with which he appealed
to me seemed to cut me to the heart.
"Antony, lad, water!"
There it was again, and I started up to find myself in bed, with a
candle burning in the room, and Revitts, with his hat on the floor, his
coat torn open, and his face besmeared with the blood flowing from a cut
in the forehead, was seated close beside his bed, evidently half
fainting.
"Antony, lad, water?" he moaned; and leaping out of bed and hurrying on
some clothes, I tried to give him what help I could, but in a strangely
confused way; for I was, as it were, in a dream, consequent upon the
deep sleep succeeding a night without my usual rest. I held a glass of
water to his lips, however, from which he drank with avidity. And then,
awakening more to the state in which he was, and realising that it was
not a dream, I set to work and sponged and bound up the cut with a
handkerchief, to find, however, to my horror, that there was another
terrible cut on the back of his head, which was also bleeding profusely.
My next idea was to go for a doctor, but I reflected that I ought to
first bind up the other wound, and this I did, leaving him in the chair,
with his chest and head lying over on the bed, looking so white that a
chill of horror shot through me, for I fancied that he was dying.
I knew there was a doctor's two streets off, and I ran to where the red
bull's-eye in the lamp shone out like a danger signal; rang the
night-bell; heard a window above me open, and, after explaining my
business and what was the matter, the medical man promised to come.
I ran back to find that Revitts had not moved, but that my attempts to
bandage his wounds had proved to be ineffectual. I did what more I
could, though, and then sat horror-stricken and silent, holding the poor
fellow's hand, speaking to him at intervals, but eliciting nothing but a
moan.
It seemed as if the doctor would never come, and I was about to rouse up
some of the people in the house when I heard the bell, and ran to admit
him.
He looked curiously at me as I stood there, candle in hand, and as I
closed the door he said gruffly:
"A drunken fall, I suppose?"
"Oh no, sir," I said hastily. "Mr Revitts never drinks."
"Humph?" he ejaculated; and I led him up to where Revitts sat.
"Policeman, eh?" said the doctor; "this is a job for the surgeon to the
division, my man. Mustn't leave him to bleed to death, though."
He slipped off his coat, and, exerting his strength, lifted poor Revitts
on to the bed, after which he removed my bandages and made an
examination.
"Hold the candle nearer, boy, nearer still. That's right. You won't
singe his hair. If you do it won't matter, for I must clip it off
short. Humph! some one has given him a pretty topper with a thick
stick, and he must have fallen with his head on the edge of a step.
Terrible cuts?"
"But will they kill him, sir?" I faltered, feeling quite sick at the
sight of the wounds.
"We won't let them, my man. Come, hold up, you mustn't, let that turn
you faint."
"I--I won't, sir," I said.
"That's right, my man. Nothing like a little will and determination.
We men must leave fainting to the girls. That's right; basin and sponge
and towel. We'll soon put him straight. Now that case out of my
pocket. That's well. Hold the candle nearer. No snuffers? Well, use
your fingers. Dirty trick, but handy--fingery, I ought to say."
He kept on talking--half-playfully, while with his bright scissors he
clipped the hair away close from Revitts' forehead, and then, cutting up
some plaister in strips, he rapidly bandaged the cuts, after bringing
the edges of the wounds together with a few stitches from a needle and
some silk.
"Poor fellow! he has got a sad knocking about," the doctor said kindly,
for now the annoyance at being called out of bed was over he was deeply
interested in his case. "I wonder some of his fellow-constables did not
take him to the hospital. Where did you find him?"